Today, we’d like to introduce you to Jordan Binney.
Hi Jordan, please kick things off for us with an introduction to yourself and your story.
As a young girl, I always knew I wanted to do something of meaning. I knew I wanted to do something impactful, but I was unsure what that was. I tried many things, but thankfully, life had a set path for me. I feel like I was destined to be an artist. I’ve always loved drawing and knew art was my favorite subject in school, but I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t know what a job or a life as an artist looked like compared to the life I was raised being told I should live.
I had to completely lose all hope and all sense of self to realize that applying paint to a canvas was simply what I enjoyed the most, and others’ expectations or views of me didn’t matter. I genuinely remember the moment I realized the self-guided practice of art was the path I wanted to take and make my own path. I was so sad and I was so alone back then thinking I had no purpose, to look back to the beginning of my artistic career and reflect on how I got here is mindboggling.
Half of the experiences that got me here I have buried deep within my psyche due to their traumatic nature; however, these moments are exactly the reason I am who I am. I’m painting what I’m painting, doing what I’m doing, and living how I’m living. It has taken me years of developing a thick skin and setting healthy boundaries with myself to get here where I am currently in my practice. I would tell sad little sophomore me to keep my head up and believe in myself.
I feel like art is a very self-taught career. I had to challenge myself and then trust that I could do it to pull it off; practice was also so key for me. Utilizing every moment to further your technique will 100% make your technique better. It’s all about consistency and believing in yourself because no one else will. And I still have a ways to go.
Can you talk to us about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way? Looking back, would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
No, definitely not. It still isn’t. Art is never stable, in my opinion. In my younger life, my hardest challenge was confidence in myself. I hadn’t realized my worth yet as an artist or as a human being in general. I found that proving myself in academic technique and traditional realism helped me gain the confidence to know I “could paint,” allowing me the right to explore more conceptual topics. However, there was no need to do that.
I didn’t need to prove myself to others. It was more important to prove my worth to myself.
Knowing my worth is, of course, an ongoing daily challenge as well, but being steadfast in your craft and knowing that you’re being true to yourself is something completely different. Sometimes, as an artist, you doubt and fight with yourself about an experience, a painting, or even a tiny brush mark, so it’s hard to always know what is true to you and what is implicated because of the added views of others. For example, right now, I’m toggling with the idea that my work might not be to answer questions but rather ask them.
As an artist, I don’t believe it should be my job to clarify things for others. I’d like to leave it up for interpretation. Other challenges are blatant rude remarks, people failing and not wanting to understand, or simply being disrespected as a woman in the workplace. Or sheer betrayal from friends in the realm of my work or my personal life. My art is my personal life, and it’s hard to separate those things, keep some things for myself, and explore some of those things artistically at a public level.
Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe you can tell us more about your work next?
The best way to summarize what I do is just – wake up, paint, sleep, wake up, paint, sleep. I live in the studio. I eat, breathe, and sh*t paint. Or at least it feels like I do. My work is fueled by my trauma and personal experiences, making my independent decisions and acts of choice and or control the most important part of my practice.
I heard Rick Ruben say that once an artist makes the art for themselves, they are then doing exactly the right thing for the viewing audience. I wholeheartedly agree with this. I am making work for myself, for my healing, but it is then to be looked at, interpreted, and then impactful to others. To ask others questions or to make others ask themselves questions. In a world of closed doors, I want my paintings to be open ones for others to question society’s rules, how we were raised, our relationships, our enforced view of the female body, our lives, etc. And what changes can we make from those realizations?
I’m known for my use of the color red because it’s in every piece and my subject of nudity, but I’m most proud of how I have grown over the years in technique but also within confidence of my subject and myself. My work is so vastly different from what I used to create being that I was trying to find my “niche” but I always knew that I wanted my work to speak on my experience of being in a minority upon the lines of my gender.
That set me apart, but also my work ethic. I am in the studio until 5 am or 8 am and sometimes on a Friday or Saturday night when friends are out having fun. I prioritize my work because that’s prioritizing my healing as a person, my growth as an artist, and my success, which I feel sets me apart.
We’d love to hear about any fond memories you have from growing up.
Separate from my art practice, my favorite memory as a child was the moment I opened my front door to my dad’s home from a business trip with a boxer puppy in a basket, saying, “Special delivery!” This was the moment my life changed, honestly. I had gotten my first dog. I worked for it too, I made a deal to sleep in my bed for 30 nights straight because my anxiety was so bad as a child I couldn’t sleep unless it were with my parents.
And after working for it and seeing that hard work through rough times pays off I was proud of myself. I had also met my best friend, my puppy Sophie who I had been wishing for for years. Yet it only took my dedication! Once I understood that I could sleep on my own, Sophie became my anxiety release. Sadly, she’s no longer with us anymore, but I have a Sophie pillow in my studio to remind me of this and to have someone to greet me every time I walk in and say goodnight to every time I leave, just like she used to do. The memory of Sophie is my favorite memory, but also the first time I learned that rewards come after hard work.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://jbinne20.myportfolio.com/work
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jordanlizb
Image Credits
Sarah Eaves @sarahandcamera
